Phone Booth
by cloy
Summary: Two men find themselves alone in a rather cramped phone booth on a rainy night. rating may go up.


It was almost too dark to see that night. I fled the warmth of the theatre without

forethought. It was stupid of me in retrospect, as I wandered through the cold, damp

darkness. The clouds unleashed rain down upon my head without mercy and my shirt was soon

soaked, sticking to my rattling bones. Lightning struck nearby and I could see the outline

of the usually-purplish mountains in the distance. Now they just looked foreboding and

bruised as if god had taken a paddle to their sides. I shivered again and began to walk in

the opposite direction.

I could see the crowd departing in droves from the doors of the warm building's lobby. I

decided to be strong (picked a grand time, eh?) and bear the cold. _Idiot._ I scowled, trying

to pick out the sight of anybody familiar, for I had no way of getting home, but all senses

were lost, drowned out by the damp, earthy smell of rain. It was pouring now. Bucket after

Bucket splashed upon my head and on my face until my eyes were bleary with the water.

Every step was a tragedy, trying not to slip and fall, trying to maintain my cat-like grace.

I must've looked like a fool.

Wandering aimlessly through the streets, I spotted a phone booth on the corner of the street.

I could see a figure inside. Who would be out in this weather? I walked toward the small

glass box and at that moment, I thanked the gods I wasn't claustrophobic. Thunder growled

threateningly overhead. I bared my teeth and growled right back.

As i approached the glass of the photo booth, I could make out the figure more clearly

through the water-drenched panes. He was a man-- a boy, really. His clothes were wet, his

hair was glossy with moisture, and skin slicked with rain, giving it an eerie blue-ish glow.

the darkness of his hair and clothes, coupled with the shadows played about his face

contrasted it so greatly that he looked almost black upon white in the darkness of that

night. _Beautiful._ He stood slightly slouching yet straining, stretching his limbs, and i

could see the definition of a fine blend of muscle and sinew coursing through his rather

slender body. The protrusions of his cheekbones and the unusual shape of his eyes gave him

almost feminine qualities. His breathing was erratic and it fogged up the glass inside. I

wanted to write on the glass. I wanted to be inside. I wanted to reach out and touch him.

I reached out with my fingertips and at that moment, he turned his head toward me so sharply

that i almost let out a yelp and drew back. His eyes bore into me, or at least into the spot

where i was standing. I wasn't sure if he could see me through the glass. I held my breath,

though I knew it was a pointless thing to do. I inhaled and knocked softly on the door of

the phonebooth. He opened the door as a violent cough racked my body and I convulsed

momentarily. He looked down at me hunched over in front of him, and his eyes seemed to

soften. I could see them clearly as I glanced up. Brown with gold flecks. But in the light,

they looked almost violet. I realize I'd forgotten to breathe.

He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. His fingers seemed thin and brittle. I had the

sudden urge to protect him. _Are you okay, Buddy?_ it echoed through my mind with a note of

concern. I had lost my tongue for a moment, but quickly regained it. _Are you an angel?_ Oh

god, I didnt' really just say that, did i?

his laugh was quivering bells and it was warm like honey. An amber laugh. _You must be really _

_fucked up, man._ More laughter. I flushed angrily. _I need to make a phone call,_ I said, in a

sharper tone than I'd meant. I straightened up and discovered I was taller than he was. I

glowered down at him_. It's damn cold outside, let me in. _

He obliged quickly, slightly afraid of my imposing stature. We were cramped in that

phone booth together, my back wedged against the receiver of the phone. He looked up at me

questioningly, eyes shining_. Aren't you going to make that call now?_ A raindrop made its way

down my nose, wavering on the tip, about to fall but undecided. He was so close, he could've

reached out and licked it off, but instead he just looked up at me with those gold-violet

eyes. Maddening little bastard. I let out a growl in spite of myself, and i could see a

flicker of fear cloud his gaze. I am not sure what came over me. I did not like him looking

at me like that. I reached out and gently brushed my hand against his cheek. He shivered.

_Hey, man_ he said, uncertainly, and drew back. I quickly put my hand back down. _i'm sorry._

The words were less said than muttered into the collar of my shirt. He just let out an

uneasy laugh. His cheeks were tinted with a rosy blush. Hmm, I pondered this action, this

state, this position. what does that mean? It settled into a slightly pink tinge upon his

alabaster skin. I mused over this for a minute or two. Neither of us moved. I could see his

bottom lip quivering ever so slightly as he breathed. Was it really that cold in here? I

tried to move but to no avail. Every motion brought us closer, leaving me trembling from the

brief touches, fire rushing to every nerve in my body. I let out a sort gasp as he moved

against me, and he looked up briefly. _Sorry, man._

No problem.

_So, why are you in here in the middle of the night?_ My breath was hot against his neck,

coming out in short hisses at every word I spoke. Shiver. Shiver. Again. He didn't have

anywhere else to go. "Just trying to get out of the rain" I quoted mentally. Neither of us

breathed for a moment. I was tall enough so that his messy hair just barely tickled my nose.

I inhaled his scent cautiously, trying not to give away the secret of what I was doing. Too

late. Fuck. He grabbed my wrist. His fingers were surprisingly strong. Looking up, we were

so close, I could see the mop of freckles sprinkled on his stern nose. His rigid jaw

softened. He glanced up at me with those motor-pool eyes. He devoured my soul. Look,

buddy... and that was it. I gave up. I gave in. Call it what you will.

His lips were soft and warm, inviting. I felt the heat coursing through my veins,

penetrating even the winter-cold. Muse. He'd let out a small gasp of surprise. I smirked

into the kiss. He tasted like rose petals and cheap wine. I hadn't noticed his hand tangled

in my damp hair. I wasn't aware of much at this point. He began to pull away. Fucking tease.

I could remedy that.


End file.
